#they are better as her friend when thancred is a better father

[impossible-rat-babies]

thinking about eyrie and ryne with endwalker but they come back from elpis and they’re a little different. there’s something off in them—something different from their usual calm collectedness. they hug her a bit too hard and their hands shake when they look her in the eyes and promise her that they’re going to make sure nothing bad happens to them—to her, especially.

and then they leave with naught a word added on, and ryne’s gut sinks. sinks down to the floor and by god she hasn’t been this terrified since the Amarout. She hopes and prays that they will be safe. (one night she cannot sleep—she cannot close her eyes because something feels so so wrong. So she sits there with Gaia close by and prays all night). But she doesn’t hear anything for a year. one long, long year.

and then they show up one day, utterly unannounced. and she sees the toil and the trials from their aether to their soul to the blindfold and new scars on their face and it Aches. it hurts to see their hurts, but by the gods they are alive.

[autumnslance]

Heya

I always like your analysis/view of characters and the Story so I would like to ask you something.

Yesterday I talked with a friend about how I kinda miss Lyse, and than I got the idea that she and Wuk Lamat would probably get along quite well.

Lyse wasn't prepared to step up on the role she has now while. Wuk Lamat is young and "lively" as Lyse, but she had a chance to grow and learn about her upcoming role as a leader of the nation during our journey with her. So I think these two would have some interesting conversations and might learn from another.

I hope, that in future patches, we get a meeting of all the Leaders interacting with another now that we have Thavnaier, Tuliyolal and Garlemald new to the table.

Do you have an opinion on this? Especially since your understanding of SB and it's characters is deeper than mine.

Oh heck you got me rambling about Lyse and Wuk Lamat, so this is going under a cut. Spoilers for Dawntrail 7.0 MSQ and everything leading to it.

I've seen a lot of comparisons between Lyse and Wuk Lamat, being young, energetic women whose stories involved a lot of growth into leaders. How they get there is different, and I do think the writers learned from how they framed Lyse's story, and how Wuk Lamat's needed to be different even if there are ways they are similar.

Lyse spent years hiding from herself and her grief, happy to let Papalymo be "in charge" for the most part (though I noted he deferred to her when it came to actually interacting with and understanding the Sylphs and Moogles, and probably other people in the Twelveswood, as "patient" and "personable" weren't exactly his best traits). Lyse was also the person who noticed things weren't quite right with Thancred in ARR, that he was working himself to the bone, but she didn't seem to know how to approach him about it, regretting it later when they realized he'd been possessed.

And in Stormblood, Lyse spends a lot of time trying to understand her countrymen's reticence, their fears, their lack of hope. She worked with Conrad's Resistance cell all through Heavensward, but it seems like the first time she really interacts closely with civilians is Ala Ghanna. In the Far East, Lyse spends time talking to the Domans, and the Mol--her scene with the children is a major one, determining what is "home" and what that means, why Hien (and Lyse) fight for a place.

She feels she isn't a leader, she's just one of the team, and as she gets pushed toward leadership, she feels it's based more on who her father and sister were, the weight of her family legacy. And part of that is that lingering grief, that literal imposter syndrome, that knowledge she isn't the woman Yda was.

Because of course she isn't. She's Lyse. Not an Archon, but a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. Probably still better educated than many, having grown up in Sharlayan, despite book smarts not being her forte. She's very good at punching things. And she has a heart and more optimism and stubbornness than most.

She grows into it, with the help of her friends (which she does, repeatedly, acknowledge the WoL as the hero who defeated Zenos and made it all possible, don't fall into the trap of memeified rewrites of the actual canon). She is only the leader of Conrad's cell (a failing of Stormblood and it's split storyline was talking about multiple cells, but only having us interact with 1 ever before it all became 1 military). And she happily lets Raubahn take command of the army when it forms, calling herself simply the commander of Rhalgr's Reach--but given her role in the war, as a former Scion, and her connections, still acts pretty much as Raubahn's Marshall in all but name.

Lyse was not raised for leadership, not raised to take command, and had to rise to the occasion. And without losing her determination, her caring, her optimism.

Wuk Lamat was born to rule; the Xbr'aal initially, but when circumstances put her life in danger, Gulool Ja Ja adopted her as his Third Promise. Wuk Lamat is a cheerful, optimistic, loving girl who wants to understand and learn about people. She's a "people's princess" we see almost from the instant we arrive in Tuluyollal, friends with nearly everyone. But it's also not hard to see, even in 6.55 and the adventures in Sharlayan, that she's young and green. She has few supporters, and no great deeds or expectations from most of the people. She struggles in the shadow of her older accomplished brothers, wondering a few times what her strength is, what she has gained from their father.

She has not been raised to rule, necessarily; while the Dawnservant has expectations for all his children, and recognizes all of their strengths, he also sees their weaknesses and where they lack. Some of that, perhaps, is on him as a parent, but he knows their potential and possibilities, if they seek the chance to grow and learn. He can only guide them, not do it all for them, if they are to reach those potentials.

And Wuk Lamat does seek, with a zest not seen since Lyse was central, and beyond her, even. Wuk Lamat is not bound by the grief of familial loss and the disconnect of diaspora; she was too young to remember the tragedy that led her to leave Yak T'el as a toddler, and her life since has been a kind and happy one. She's been educated and trained well.

But there are limits to what a girl can learn in a single city, with only one or two visits to other villages now and then. And Wuk Lamat, like Lyse, takes the time to try to learn and understand. She picks up faster than Koana the point of the contest--while Zoraal Ja ignores it entirely, and Bakool Ja Ja has other pressures he's dealing with.

There's another comparison; Lyse's determination to understand Fordola, to change her mind, making her a symbol of all the collaborators. Lyse's determination that all Ala Mhighans must be free and begin anew, to rebuild their society together. To acknowledge the pain but not let it bind them into cycles of violence (which continues in the Endwalker healer role quests, as Raganfrid and Arenvald take up the specific task of reintegrating the collaborators).

Wuk Lamat, meanwhile, struggles to understand the bandits of Kozama'uka, the Chirwagur Yok Huy of Urqopacha, and the Mamook of Yak T'el. She changes Bakool Ja Ja and earns his respect, by perhaps being the first person to demand to know what he wants--and then following through on the promise to find a way to make that wish happen. To find a way all Turali can be free and happy, including the Mamool Ja (who may have tried to kill her as a toddler).

Lyse spends all of Stormblood fighting to free her people from a decades-old foe, forcing her to become a leader. Wuk Lamat's fight comes after she has grown into the kind of leader that can defend Tuliyollal from the threat of Alexandria and Zoraal Ja's betrayal. And even though Sphene can't change her mind thanks to her programmed nature, Wuk Lamat never stops trying to reach the caring personality encoded within.

Because the other person Wuk Lamat compares to is the Assumed Default Warrior of Light. She's a determinator in a similar way; she doesn't easily give up or give in, despite her doubts and the difficulties along the way. She makes friends wherever she goes, forming bonds and connections that come back to help, time and again. She goes from novice adventurer to epic hero, as WoL had to do in ARR; the entirety of Dawntrail seems a compressed version of that story for her, with adventure and events happening in the first half, and then the other shoe drops. For WoL, it was the Waking Sands massacre. For her, the first assault on Tuliyollal. WoL didn't have the benefit of a mentor--with Louisoix long gone and most of the Scions captured--but WoL could be there for Lamaty'i.

How often has that been a fear and regret of the Scions and other friends? How happy they were with the warding scales letting them help with those burdens! How at the edge of existence, the only thing that kept the WoL walking to the end was the memories of their friends and the hopes they had, and in the final battle, the Scions were still with the WoL regardless of distance.

(And Zenos was there. Still the most hilarious entrance ever.)

We stand with Wuk Lamat to the end--and she breaks through to find WoL and Sphene, because Lamaty'i won't give up on her friends. And Sphene could have been, if she had still been alive.

Anyroad. I DO think Lyse and Wuk Lamat would have a lot to talk about, in how they grew to be leaders, in similarities and differences, in their relationship with the Scions and the WoL, about the adventures they've had. I loved seeing Vrtra and Azdaja in Tuliyollal, and that Koana formed a treaty with them, which may indeed mean more interaction with Thavnair in the future. For that matter, the Leveilleur twins' quest to help Garlemald rebuild and reintegrate with the global community may bring some familiar faces from there around...though from the Island Sanctuary quests, we also know those people have never taken vacations and don't know what do to outside of "survive" and "duty." But there's a lot to learn, and seeing how diverse people can live together in peace, after most of a century under Ascian propaganda, would be good for them. Sharlayan tends to have diplomatic relations with various foreign powers, and Tural's no exception, and the use of Labyrinthos research to aid Mamook could become more of a thing to bring some of those characters in for cameos (for that matter, helping the Alexandrians integrate, and studying that phenomenon, as if those scholars could resist!).

I'm a little wary of having all the leaders in a single space; generally that's a plot point reserved for some terrible world wide event or circumstance arising! But it would be nice to have the opportunity to visit with old friends on some kind of tour, to see Tuliyollal make other allies and diplomatic connections, and give such characters those chances to interact.

But if the game doesn't take those opportunities on screen (people often forget that a lot happens out of WoL's POV, too), we've always got fanfiction to make it happen in!

[morgana96]

My Oddly Specific FFXIV Cooking Headcanons

Morgana (my WoL): A master culinarian and hardcore gourmet. Her father is also an accomplished chef from whom she gained most of her experience. People have literally had "Ratatouille moments" while eating her food.

Haurchefant: A decent cook who's been improving recently thanks to tips he got from Morgana. But honestly, his real specialty is beverages — he makes the best hot cocoa in Coerthas, as well as several other drinks and cocktails.

Alphinaud: A reformed rich kid™ who can't cook to save his life. He's quite embarrassed to have gone this long without knowing how to even make simple meals. But recently, he's started taking occasional lessons from Morgana in an attempt to improve.

Alisaie: Another reformed rich kid™ who can't cook to save her life. She's also very embarrassed about it and is now taking lessons with Morgana, but she's managed to turn it into a race with Alphinaud to see who's first to make something edible.

Thancred: Technically a better cook than Alphinaud and Alisaie. He mainly knows bare minimum recipes from growing up on Limsa's streets, and he's not very good at seasoning food. He actually got motivated to improve a little while taking care of Ryne.

Urianger: Actually alright at cooking, but his tastes can be EXTREMELY weird. He'll make a perfectly normal meal one day, but then the next day he'll make one of those unhinged recipes you'd find in a vintage 70's cookbook.

Moenbryda: Not the best chef in the realm, but way better than Thancred and the twins. If she practices a recipe enough, she'll eventually get the hang of it — much like when she taught herself how to make cockatrice meatballs for Urianger.

Y'shtola: Got banned from Matoya's kitchen as a child and hasn't been seen cooking since. She also refuses to elaborate on what exactly she did to get herself banned.

G'raha: Has specific dishes he's good at making, but is well aware that he can't bake for shit. Ask him for a sandwich and he'll make you one with just the right amount of each ingredient. Ask him for a cake or a batch of cookies and the kitchen's at risk of going up in flames.

Tataru: A very talented culinarian. She and Morgana love to make food together — especially baked goods and sweets to share with their friends and Scion colleagues.

Krile: Doesn't cook much, but she's not too bad at it. She's memorized a handful of good recipes that she used to enjoy with her grandfather and other Students of Baldesion.

Estinien: People who don't know him well jump to the conclusion that he can't cook at all. But he's actually quite competent, especially compared to several other Scions. He learned from childhood how to build a fire and cook over an open flame, and while his skills in the kitchen aren't perfect, he can follow a recipe and make something at least decent.

Ysayle: Thinks she's not a very good cook, but actually isn't that bad. She was genuinely surprised when her soup was complimented during the journey to speak with Hraesvelgr, and once she gets a new start with the Scions, she asks Morgana to help her recreate some recipes her family used to make before the Calamity.

[mnemosyne-xiv]

The moment you returned with the Scions, I knew you were avoiding everyone. Her parents weren't oblivious. My father could hardly keep track of where you were going. And before I could find you, you had already left for Thavnair.

But when you returned yet again, you had no choice but to come to me if you wanted access to my true line of work. The Atiascope was beyond even my father's grasp. Only with my endorsement would Master Fourchenault begin to consider listening to your party's request. Something you knew yet kept to yourself, deciding it better to speak with me alone as far away from your comrades as you could get.

"You'll find more than the Mother Crystal down in the aetherial depths of this star," I warned. "I've seen the Antecedant myself. Do you believe Thancred capable of continuing down this path without letting his guilt and grief consume him?"

"Our friend has come far since last you saw him," came your confident reply.

"And what of you? After everything you've endured, if you saw her, could you continue down this path until the very end?"

"..."

I took a step closer. "What lies at the edge of existence will test your heart far more than venturing into the aetherial sea. If you can't face Moenbryda and promise me you'll work to find inner peace, then I can't give you my support knowing you'll end up dead when all is said and done."

Your silence hung heavy in the air. Painfully so. The weary pull on the corners of your once bright eyes spoke volumes on your behalf. This fight has been long and taken its toll. From the moment you left this little hamlet we call home, you've been tested time and time again, and once more must you choose the choice of sacrifice in the hopes it shall grant us all the salvation you wish to gift.

Before I realized it, my hand found its way to your cheek. A warm, gentle touch that you leaned into as though it were the first source of comfort you had felt in years—and perhaps it was.

"Promise me you'll return," I whispered into the small space left between us. "Promise me, Urianger."

"I promise thee that I shall return no matter the costs."

"Then I'll speak with the Forum on your behalf."

[eluvixns]

no one asked for it but since i am trapped beneath a cat who is biting me every time i try to end this cuddle session here is some haylin lore

- comes from a pirate hyur mother and an elezen gridanian father

- has an older brother that got smoked with their father during the calamity when he was fighting on the frontlines

- has no contact with ma bc ma abandoned them

- came to gridania hoping to find some sort of life and home but instead found ghosts and ruin

- would never have gone down the path of adventurer if she wasnt so in need of a few bucks

- only went with yda and paps and to the waking sands bc she needed that cash money your girl was BROKE

- stayed with the scions bc of minf and her understanding of the echo

- got super attached to alphie bc she missed the sibling feeling and only continued to stay for him

- and bc she thought thancred was tasty

- and bc where else would she fucking go at this point

- DEFINITELY had a few choice words for lahabrea when the big reveal happened and definitely told alphie if he strayed too far from her side she would drag him around by his ankles

- definitely wanted g'raha during the crystal tower quests and definitely cried a bit when they were over

- canonly bothers urianger when she's bored and he knows this but humours her anyway bc he eventually peaks her curiosity and he knows this dumb bitch cant resist acting on it so now he can infodump all he wants and shes just chin in hands the whole time bc shes basically learning history tea

- definitely has not recovered from the vault and the crippling guilt

- definitely cornered hancock when he first showed up and told him if he fucks with tataru shes gonna serve his balls on a kebab skewer seasoned and fried to him

- the scions have definitely come to her room to go out on jobs and she's definitely opened the door butt ass naked. now they just call over link pearl ( and when she doesnt answer they send y'shtola )

- has thought about how she'd kick the asses of every scion except y'shtola bc even she knows better

- tried to be a white mage like dad and it didnt fit. tried to be a dragoon like brother but it didnt fit. tried to be a warrior to try and connect with her mother but it didnt fit. became a dark knight when the anger she held after the vault kicked in. became a reaper when she figured out being a real warrior of darkness has more appeal than being the golden child of a god who was never there

- the only reason she isnt a mercenary for hire for the highest bidder is bc she loves the scions too much and alphie is her north star

- that being said if she ever lost him or g'raha or thancred or estinien she'd probably kill the source herself bc whats the point in living in it if they're not there any more?

- is v adventurous though like DO NOT ENTER signs are like moth to flame for her shes just too curious she HAS to know

- flirting with nero so he gets uncomfortable and weirded out is her favourite hobby

- she does the same to estinien and this is my reasoning as to why he took so long to join the scions it it wasnt the commitment issues it was fucking haylin lurking in the shadows ready to tell him he holds his rod well

- is alisaie's number one fan she would kill for this kid she would fight anyone

- insists g'raha goes with her everywhere they're joined at the hip she wants him bad

- her crush on thancred turned into 'this is my partner in crime my best friend my brother in arms'

- urianger is her person though

- worships the ground y'shtola walks on like her word is law

- scar across her nose is from wandering too far into the forests alone as a kid and getting smacked by the beasties in there before her brother came to the rescue

- has a multitude of scars from various things and her story for each one is never the truth ( it's easier and better that way )

- you can bet ur ass she tried to see where things would go with aymeric but stopped when she realised he really is that kind and noble and she didnt want to ruin that bc she is utterly convinced she's not worth a damn thing

- which is probably why she throws herself into harms way so willingly. not just for the scions, or the people, or the weak. but bc she thinks she deserves whatever pain is coming

- and because she KNOWS she can take it. she can withstand it

- she's just too stubborn to not stand up again after it

[anneapocalypse]

Ariane Clairière

WoL/OC tag meme. Thank you for the tag, @lilbittymonster!

Tagging: @farfromdaylight @ecosystem-administrator @valeriannnn @azim-steppes @bluewren no pressure, if you feel like it. :)

With extra screenshots because I like looking at her.

B A S I C S

Name: Ariane Clairière

Nicknames: A few close friends call her Ari, but it's mostly Ariane

Age: late 20s (she's 27 at the start of ARR)

Nameday: 23rd day of the Third Umbral Moon

Race: Wildwood Elezen

Gender: Female

Orientation: Bisexual

Profession: Healer, Plant Lady (botanist/alchemist), Adventurer

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Dark golden blonde/light brown depending on the light.

Eyes: Moss green.

Skin: Light, warm undertones, freckles on her face.

Tattoos/scars: No tattoos. Emotional scars only. 😂

F A M I L Y

Parents: Anniette Clairière (mother), Gratien Clairière (father)

Siblings: Gratienne Clairière (younger sister by 18 months)

Grandparents: The Clairières (maternal grandparents) lived in Mor Dhona where Ariane grew up until age 12, and she knew them as a child. Their family has roots in Gridania some generations back (Clairière being a very Gridanian name). This does not result in Ariane being seen or accepted as Gridanian when she arrives there as an adventurer, and while she is probably closest to "Gridanian Elezen" culturally (more so than Ishgardian, certainly), she doesn't think of herself as Gridanian. Gratien's family is from Somewhere Else; he rarely spoke of them and Ariane and Gratienne never knew them.

In-laws and Other: So far, Ariane has never married; Count Edmont told her after Haurchefant's death that he had intentions of proposing to her, and that he would have been proud to call her a daughter and would always consider her family. Urianger's parents, of course, are Not Around; Ariane is shyly getting to know Moenbryda's parents and wishing she had known their daughter better. She has a gaggle of "siblings" she's picked up along her adventures: Alphinaud and Alisaie, Arya, Sylphie. It's taken a long time but now, at the end of Endwalker, the Scions do feel like family to her. She's closest to Urianger and the twins, but does also have a particular bond with G'raha and Y'shtola and Thancred because of what they all went through in the First--though it's a bond that takes a different form with each of them and I'm so tempted to ramble about that but I'll save it for another post. ;)

Pets: Marshmallow, her fat cat.

S K I L L S

Abilities: She's a healer first and foremost, and at the moment, she's primarily focused on honing her skills as a Sage. But she's also had a bit of a return to white magic after a long time away--conjury was her first love in the arcane, but her failure to save Haurchefant made her feel like white magic had let her down when she most needed it, and she had put it aside for a long time, choosing to branch out into other schools of magic both protective and destructive, though she will always return to healing. She dabbles in various physical combat to keep herself fit. (Lyse scolded her in Stormblood for being unable to throw a punch, and started training her as a pugilist. She picked up a sword and shield in honor of Haurchefant. Thancred gave her some training with a gunblade in the First.) But she'll always be a mage first.

Hobbies: Your girl loves books. They were the one place her imagination could run free during her isolated childhood. A perfect afternoon to herself involves a good book, a cup of tea, and curling up on the sofa with Marshmallow, probably with Urianger somewhere nearby with his own cup of tea and his own reading. She also really loves gardening, and finds even the most complicated seed crossing a relaxing retreat from her day job. Recently, she has taken up painting as well, though she'd be the first to admit she's not very good at it, but it's fun to try and recreate some of the sights that have taken her breath away in her travels. And she loves music, listening as well as making it, though she'd never consider herself a performer; music for her is an act of community.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: She has high empathy, which she channels into compassion and a desire to help others and heal the world.

Most Negative Trait: She has high empathy, which means she can get absolutely overwhelmed by other people's emotions and presence to the point that she comes off as unfriendly because she just shuts down. Large groups stress her out. Being The Hero takes an emotional toll on her not just because of the practical expectations placed on her but by the sheer emotional burden of having so many people have feelings about her that they want to express to her--even when they're positive.

L I K E S

Colors: ALL THE COLORS. She loves color too much to choose, though you'll see a lot of green and purple if you come to her house.

Smells: Hydrangeas, old wood, the smell of fresh earth in the garden, tea with honey, the smell after a rainfall.

Textures: old hardwood floors, cut stone, brick and mortar, flowy fabrics, necklaces with stone pendants she can fidget with, fingers combing through hair, flowing water, cat fur.

Drinks: Teas of all kinds, hot and cold.

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Nope.

Drinks: Very occasionally for social events, and not a lot. She can get one drink and sip on it for a long time.

Drugs: Nope. Makes her too nervous.

Mount Issuance: Her company mount is a white chocobo named Charlie. She also keeps a draft chocobo for carriage riding, and she's named Marigold. In truth, though, she's a little more enamored of four-legged beasts, and keeps a stable of peculiar horses. Grani was her mount in the First, and came home with her; the six-legged Arion is also a favorite.

Been Arrested: Well, there was that time in Ishgard... 😂 She's too much of a goody-two-shoes to make a habit of it, though!

[cinlat]

Ghosts That Linger

Endwalker Spoilers Below the Cut

Word Count: 2505

Even in a world ravaged by blasphemies, the people of Eorzea found the time for a proper spectacle. Fynta stood in the back of the crowd that lined the harbors of Old Sharlayan. She watched the grieving faces of strangers and allies. Masses filled the courtyard and peered from the decks of ships. She didn’t know how many had come to mourn the vaulted Warrior of Light, but Fynta estimated it was most of what was left of their star.

“She’d ‘ave hated this.” Kirin inhaled through his nose, then let out a shaky breath. His eyes were fixed on the stern visage of a tiny Au Ra woman who’d proven herself to be larger than the gods. He shook his head. “Too many people.”

“Serves her right.” Fynta didn’t glance at her long-time friend when he looked at her. She allowed herself a respectful smile, then slid her gaze to meet his. “She shouldn’t have been so godsamned heroic.”

Kirin snorted, but there was no mirth in the sound. If not for him, Fynta wouldn’t have come. She hated memorials and the weeping of people who had nothing better to do. Their star had lost a hero, and there were too many people present to allow the ones who truly grieved a chance to do so.

True, Kirin and the Scions had been given time with Isashi's body. Fynta thought back to their first meeting in the pugilist’s guild. How she’d used her larger size and strength to overpower the smaller woman. Or, so she’d thought. It had taken a year to convince Isashi to teach Fynta the strike that had laid her out cold. Mostly because the au ra didn’t trust Fynta to use it responsibly.  All of that fire and discipline had drained away in those final moments aboard the ship between worlds, leaving Isashi a small, fragile husk with nothing to fill it.

According to Thancred, they’d almost revived her. Isashi’s eyes had fluttered open after her final match with Zenos and she’d spoken. No one had heard what she said, but Fynta bet it had something to do with the miqo’te standing next to her.

“You want to get out of here?” Fynta asked, staring at the platform where Lord Aymeric was no doubt giving a heartfelt speech. Isashi had been a regular fixture in Ishgard during her marriage to Harchefaunt, and she’d befriended many of the Elezen there. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn fanned out behind him, Estinien and G’raha included. Thancred’s keen eyes searched the crowd, but Fynta had positioned herself and Kirin in the shadow of a monolith.

“Soon,” Kirin answered. His ears perked forward, likely picking up on the speech that Fynta couldn’t hear. She nodded and leaned against the stone, searching the crowds for something to occupy her mind.

A red feather caught Fynta’s attention, and she smiled at the gaudy red mage beneath it. No doubt Arya was with him. Fynta was glad that X’rhun had made it. He and Isashi hadn’t dated long, but the worn-thin warrior had found new life during her time with him.

Loud sobs echoed from somewhere behind Fynta, and she didn’t need to turn to know that Hildebrand was mourning the loss of a dear friend too. She’d seen his father earlier, wearing a pair of black, cut-off breeches and a bow tie with little else. All throughout the area, Fynta spied familiar faces. A hulking samurai hovered near the spiky black hair of an eastern lord. The royal crest of the Fortemps family had been engraved into the wood surrounding Isashi’s portrait on the stage. Even the odd tuft of a moogle bounced in and out of view. They had all come to see Isashi into the aetherial sea.

Fynta glanced at Kirin, who had barely spoken since Isashi's body had been lowered from the ship hatch. She had witnessed their final conversation, though that hadn’t been her intent. Kirin had gathered the courage to kiss Isashi, who’d looked more annoyed about his piss-poor timing than the act itself. Isashi had promised to revisit the topic upon her return, as the ship’s great engines had already ignited and the primals were restless. He’d watched her depart from the shadows, never to finish that fateful conversation.

“Okay,” Kirin said, turning from the raised dais as Urianger took the podium. “I need a drink.”

Later that night, while Kirin snored in the bed next to Fynta’s, a knock tapped softly on their door. She ignored it, assuming someone was looking for a good time in the wrong place. Then, light bloomed in the crack beneath. Fynta raised onto an elbow, squinting until it faded. She trod softly, though it wouldn’t have mattered with how much Kirin had drank and pulled open the flimsy door. The hallway was dark, as empty as one would expect for such an ungodly hour, save for a pearlescent crystal on a gilded stand.

Fynta knew it on sight, though she’d never beheld one before. With one more glance up and down the hallway, she lifted the white auracite. It was both heavier and lighter than she expected, with red and blue crystals wrapped in a spiraling pattern. Fynta nudged the door shut and carried it to her bed where she studied it in the dying candlelight. No black smoke swirled out of it, nor did it radiate any sort of aether. For all purposes, it was a pretty rock.

Deciding it would be best to leave the study of such things to more intellectual, and admittedly, sober, minds than her own, Fynta placed the bauble on the rickety table that separated hers and Kirin’s beds and flopped back onto her pillow. She succumbed to the weight of liquor and emotion in minutes.

That was when the dreams began.

[ainyan]

Light (Snippet)

Kal'istae came through the door to the Scions’ private chambers, looking distracted. In one hand she bore her cane, in the other, a letter. Even from his seat near the bookshelves, Thancred could see that the parchment bore the seal of the Seedseers. “Is something wrong?” he asked curiously, and was just a bit startled when she spun around to stare at him.

“Uh - huh?” she asked, blinking, then shook her head sharply. “Sorry, Thancred. I was… distracted.” She held up the letter as an explanation. “Nothing’s wrong that I can’t deal with, I’m just…” She trailed off, peering at him thoughtfully. “How engrossed are you in your research?”

An odd question, and Thancred frowned thoughtfully at her as he lowered his gaze to the book before him. “Not particularly right now. I’ve been through this book twice now. I could probably use a break - if you’ve something you need a hand with?”

She studied him with lavender-edged eyes and he saw her start to shake her head, then pause, frowning. “Actually,” she said slowly, gazing down at the letter in her hand, “how would you feel about a short trip to a lost city?”

Intrigued, he placed a scrap of paper in the book to mark his place and shut it, leaning his elbow on the table as he studied her. “Keep going,” he invited.

She smiled slightly. “Raya-O-Senna, one of the Seedseers, sent me a missive. Things have begun to stir within the Lost City of Amdapor again, and she worries that they might begin to spill over past the wards, as they almost did last time there was a disturbance in the aether.” Her gaze became distant as she stared past him. “It occurs to me that given what I dealt with the last few times I was in there, I’d be better off going now. Especially,” she murmured, “now that I have seen what could happen first hand.”

He waited, but she did not explain further. “So you’re looking to adventure into this Lost City and deal with whatever disturbance has the Seedseers - and I presume the Elementals - so out of sorts?”

Making a noise in her throat, she wandered closer, placing the letter on the table and skimming her fingers along the back of an empty chair. “In a nutshell, yes,” she finally agreed. “I could probably take this on alone, or find some of my adventurer friends, but…” She trailed off, shrugging as she gazed down at the letter on the table.

“But you’ve grown fond of our company,” Thancred teased her lightly, and she glanced up with a slight smile. “Well, it had to happen eventually,” he added, grinning. “As it happens, I wouldn’t mind a spot of exercise. Who else were you thinking?”

She hesitated. “I thought I would ask Alisaie and G’raha Tia. She’s been quite restless since… her father… and Raha is always eager for adventure. Between the three of us, we should have no trouble keeping you in cartridges.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “Usually you try to avoid your fans,” he remarked neutrally. “I mean, I know those two are your friends, but… surely you’ve noticed…”

Exhaling, she bit her lip. “Yes, of course I have. I’m not blind. I’m hoping… that there’s truth in the old saw about familiarity.”

Familiarity breeds contempt. He almost said the words aloud - but he bit them off before he could. “I see. And is that why you wish my company as well?”

She glanced up, eyes round. “No! I mean - it would be the height of arrogance to presume that about you, Thancred. I’m known for doing the impossible, but there’s some feats as even I would not aspire to.” Her laughter rang a little flat, sang a little hollow, and he hid his frown behind a smirk.

“Well, just as well - I doubt I will ever hold you in anything but the highest esteem, no matter how much time I spend in your company,” the gunbreaker replied easily, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Well then, milady, shall we see if the other two members of our little adventuring company are up to the task?”

Exhaling, Kal'istae nodded, leaving the letter lay on the table as she headed towards the door. With her back to Thancred, she missed the look of concern on his face, and by the time he joined her in the common room, he’d gotten his expression under control. She stood before the table where Alisaie and G’raha Tia sat with Alphinaud, and he could tell from her gestures she was explaining her plan.

As he’d expected, both Alisaie and G’raha Tia leapt at the chance to join her - literally, in the case of the red mage, who barely batted an eye as her chair crashed over backwards. “Finally!” she exclaimed. “Something to do! Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

G’raha Tia was more circumspect, his gaze lingering on Kal'istae as she watched Alisaie with bemusement. “It has been too long since last we shared an adventure,” he remarked, and her indigo eyes slid to meet his ruby as she smiled. “You and Alisaie and I - who shall be our fourth? Or will you stand in the van and have Alphinaud heal your wounds?”

“Ah, no,” Kal'istae replied, glancing over her shoulder and meeting Thancred’s eyes as the hyur stepped up to them. He was only just above average height for a hyuran male, but this party of three made him feel like a giant. Alisaie was the smallest, but Kal'istae herself was only an ilm or two taller, with G’raha capping her out by another couple of ilms.

Red mage and Exarch both turned, and Thancred was suddenly quite grateful that Kal'istae was still looking at him; he would prefer not to deal with any questions about why their companions suddenly looked so dismayed when she knew perfectly well that both Scions were quite friendly with him. “Oh, uh, Thancred,” Alisaie stammered with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “Well, that makes sense, I suppose.”

He smiled sharply. “Well, while I know that Kal'istae is a dab hand with a gunblade, or sword and shield, and G’raha Tia’s been known to manifest his own armor, let’s be honest - I’m the best at gaining attention - when I want to be seen.”

G’raha Tia was significantly more circumspect than the red mage, though his eyes reflected a disquiet he did not express. “It’s quite true. Everyone who meets you is just dying to hit you.”

Alphinaud choked back his laughter, and Kal'istae lifted her hands to her mouth, eyes dancing as Thancred sighed and shook his head. “Alright, alright,” the white mage soothed, holding out her hands and gesturing for peace. “Settle. The Seedseers have asked me to look in on the Lost City of Amdapor, as signs suggest that the aether has begun to warp as it did before. Given what I witnessed last time, and what we have so recently dealt with, I would prefer to deal with this situation sooner rather than later.”

G’raha Tia rubbed his jaw. “How did these aetheric disturbances manifest themselves when last you dealt with them?”

Kal'istae hesitated, then shook her head. “I would prefer not to say - I’d rather have your unbiased opinion. And before you suggest that I bring Y’shtola in your stead - let it be said I have a particular reason for wanting you two with me, rather than our dear friend. And you, certainly, are knowledgeable enough about aether to be able to give me a perfectly respectable opinion.”

G’raha Tia and Alisaie exchanged a look, then glanced up towards Thancred, who nodded soberly at them. Of one accord, all three turned back to Kal'istae, who was waiting patiently. “Very well then. The Lost City is found in South Shroud, right? Near Camp Tranquil?” When she nodded, Thancred reached over his shoulder, adjusting his gunblade where it lay along his spine. “Then, let us go, and quell this disturbance before it threatens the Twelveswood. We have enough on our plate without having to worry about the Elementals, as well.”

Kal'istae nodded and opened her mouth - then paused, gazing keenly at the gunbreaker. “I - can you teleport yet? I know Y’shtola and Cid have been working on a way…”

His smile brought an answering curve of her lips. “Aye,” he replied, waving away her concern. “They managed to come up with something that will allow me to utilize the Aetheryte network once more.”

Her eyes glittered. “Excellent.” And without another word, she whisked them off to the fetid, stinking swamps and the Gridanian outpost of Camp Tranquil.

[girlbob-boypants]

1 8 9 24 25 🔥🔥🔥🔥

ALRIIIIIGHT let's do this. You didn't specify what so I'll. find something after I copy in the questions and see what i'm dealing with

hm. uh. let's just do 14.

Oh thats a lot of ranting oh. Um. So my rants for this game always get heavier than I expect due to the nature of this game SO

Cw for discussions abuse, racism, and misogyny.

wow it's just like complaining about the DA fandom

1 - The character everyone gets wrong

Honestly? It's Emmy Sulk himself. (Disclaimer that I can only speak through my experiences with the English translation which is known for being either spot on or way off but afaik the main story is better about this)

But his is to the point where even the writing gets him wrong in his second expac imo. Like core parts of his original presentation were that 1. He really loves being dramatic and has a sense of humor and 2. Every aspect of him has been embittered by the loss of his people. His humor is fleeting and spiteful. His view of the world is downright spiteful. This is so important to understand. Emet was not always grouchy and mean, even if he was once serious. And it's no secret even in shadowbringers. He does things out of pity and compassion for the group cause we've amused him. He says this is boring and leaves when we're held hostage. He says he does not view mortals as real people yet his mind palace views us as children rather than the man made creatures of his time.

And people took this and turned it into "oh he's a secretly nice grouch. Teehee he's mister grumpy pants" and ew ran with that and completely fucking NUKED his character in favor of fanon. We didn't even need to see what he was like back when his people were alive but if we were going to, don't tell me that the complete destruction of his people only slightly tweaked his personality. And don't turn his sharp witted best friend into a twink who's only personality trait is "Emmy is actually a good guy I promise". And to have Emmy say he thinks his cause was better but we won so he's putting his faith in us feels so. "Yeah even after getting all his memories back and seeing us in action he still maintains that creating fascist nations with creatures he viewed as subhuman was a good idea but he's your friend now so he supports you."

Literally the worst character arc ever. Imagine taking the "this villain was once kind but lost their way and became cruel and hateful" trope and reversing it into a redemption arc where the entire redemption is "yeah he's always been exactly like this but in another life you were friends so it's okay you can't hate him for what he did to your world"

8 - Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Okay I wrote an entire rant about a character and then realized there's an even worse opinion i hate more so. I'm keeping it cause everything I said is so true but this one is even more important.

Okay so a known fact among 14 fans who can read is that the Xaela au ra are meant to be Mongolian coded. It's not subtle. However it's also incredibly mean spirited. And the worst fandom opinion is that the shitty ways a Japanese studio chose to mock Mongolian culture(s) are funny. There's tribes with beliefs that are, honestly, perfectly normal things clearly being played up for laughs and the fans just clap and jeer along???

Basically the fandom opinion is "SE were so funny for how they wrote the Xaela" when actually it was racism.

Anyone who thinks Thancred is a good father, show me the receipts. Seriously the guy is downright abusive at some points and even if his emotions about it all are fair, his actions aren't. He treats Minifilia just like all of her other captives have, all while projecting his feelings about the last person he failed to protect onto her. And while it makes for a good character arc, she never gets to call him out on it and he never talks to her about it. In fact, instead of talking to her, we get some random Manpain Deadwife dude who vents about his life despite literally not mattering to the plot. And this is somehow more influential to Thancred realizing he should be better than talking to Minifilia is. Even when Minifilia expresses guilt that her being alive means Thancred will never see the person he misses more.

And as touching as their scene is when he gives her a new name that's all her own after he almost died for her is. It's not admission or apology. Minifilia deserved to have him say sorry and to say he was terrified of losing her and almost pushed her away trying to keep her safe.

BUT UNFORTUNATELY HE SUCKS SHIT AS A FATHER AND IM ADOPTING HIS CHILD AND HITTING HIM WITH A DIVORCE (never married)

9 - Worst part of canon

Just like. All of Stormblood? Worst villains, worst coding, worst character development for half the cast. Zenos is literally the epitome of the colonizer nation he's the prince of but the writing goes "noooo he doesn't care about any of that he's just power hungry so there's no commentary!! Him using a Japanese weapon he obtained by murdering and pillaging isn't commentary. Him beating and experimenting on women from colonized nations isn't commentary cause he's not doing it with those motivations!!"

I've spoken a lot about how much I hate every part of this expac. It does nothing well and leads to one of the worst villains everyone obsesses over for being a little silly despite adding nothing to the story and just being a dps check and a voice box in a cardboard cutout.

24 - topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

Yotsuyu. Oh SE made one of their villains a Korean comfort woman? Quick, we better talk about how misogynistic this one character is for not killing all brothel owners everywhere even though those people still being alive means Yotsuyu never used the immense power she had as ruler to hunt them down. She had plenty of time to commit ethnic cleanses tho. Weird how that never gets brought up. Why do people criticize this game like it's a real world and the character are all acting of their own accord and not the product of real people from our world writing things?

25 - common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

ANYONE WHO WANTS ZENOS BACK NO THE FUCK YOU DONT STOP COMPLAINING THAT THE WRITERS FINALLY HAD A WOMAN ADDRESS HOW TERRIBLY HE TREATS EVERYONE WOMAN IN HIS CONTROL I SWEAR TO FUCK WHY DO SO MANY OF YOU THINK ZERO IS A MEAN BITCH FOR SAYING THE STALKER SERIAL KILLER WAS A BAD PERSON

[morocosmos]

Returning - Alisaie, Krile

Intro chapter | Thancred | Urianger | Y’shtola | Alphinaud, Estinien | Tataru

Warrior of Light & Alisaie Leveilleur & Krile Mayer Baldesion

Takes place during Endwalker, just after the end of 6.0. This is a series of vignettes on each of the Scions’ relationships with my Warrior of Light, Moro’a as he’s recovering after the end of the Final Days.

Of all the things Alisaie hates, waiting is high, high up on the list.

She detests standing by, waiting for a resolution to present itself. Left for too long, such frustration is wont to light a fire in her chest, as it has now. The longer it rages on, the hotter it burns – she paces across the room, threatening to wear down the floor beneath her steps while she turns to glance at Moro’a every other second.

It’s all for naught. He remains as unconscious as he was when they’d brought him out of the Ragnarok.

“You,” she starts, turning on her heel and pointing a finger at Moro’a. “Need to wake up. And soon, before I go positively mad! You know I cannot stand waiting around like this, unable to do a thing.”

She’d inherited Father’s urgency, but not Mother’s patience. Nor the temperance that comes so naturally to her mother and brother. Alisaie had accepted this facet of herself long ago – why sit down and fret when she could bring the solutions forward with the work of her own two hands? The sooner it’s done, the better for everyone involved. She loops around the room in an uneven figure of eight, her frustration simmering.

“Think of all the unfinished business you have left,” she persists. “All the people waiting for you to return. You promised you would try to talk to your sister!” Never mind that Deipo likely still hates his guts, and that they’d not spoken since leaving her at Carteneau.

She wants to stay mad – even as it threatens to burn down to the dregs beneath, to where the pit in her stomach has waxed and waned with each passing day, without ever quite leaving.

It’s…unfair, is what it is. That someone like him could have been at the physical brink of death after surviving encounter after impossible encounter. It’s unfair to her that they’d come so far, saved the entire star and beyond for Twelve’s sakes! Only to have fear and anxiety sprout over their victory like thrice-blighted fungi.

“Alisaie? Give me a hand here, will you?” Alisaie snaps to attention as the door is pushed open and in comes Krile, balancing a large teapot and two cups atop a plain white tray.

“Krile,” Alisaie says simply, holding the door so that the woman might more easily pass through. “Is it your turn already?”

“Not for another half bell or so,” Krile replies, setting the tray on a low table to the side of the room’s two chairs. “But I thought you might appreciate the company.”

Alisaie chafes. “I can well watch after Moro’a myself,” she grouses, folding her arms.

“And I was not doubting that.” Krile sits on a chair, smoothing out the folds of her robes before looking at Alisaie with a soft, polite smile. “But watching over him together could not make it worse, surely?”

Alisaie doesn’t have a good argument against that, so she settles for a half-conceding “hmm”. She glances at Moro’a again, pursing her lips as an unpleasant new wave of emotion assails her. Were it not for seeing the faint movement of his breathing, she might as well have thought he’d gone to the beyond, pale and worn as he looks.

“Gods,” she hisses, slumping into the remaining chair.

Krile watches as the fight in Alisaie dissipates, replaced by an anxious buzzing, much like a cloud of vilekin. The situation is so familiar it’s almost distressing, she ponders as she looks from Alisaie to Moro’a. For what it’s worth, it’s far less physically taxing – the sages’ equipment does the work of sustaining their friend’s aether, and apart from the bout of aethershock that had half-frightened everyone out of their wits, Krile has to concede that they’ve done a fine job. But she’d seen the extent of Moro’a’s injuries when they’d carried him out of the ship, and even now guilt twists into her heart as she thinks about the part she’d played in his current state.

Shaking free of such morose thoughts, reaches for the teapot. “Would you like some?” she asks Alisaie. The young woman glances at the pot but remains reticent, shaking her head. Krile pours a full cup for herself, sipping from it quietly as their not-so-companionable silence carries on.

“It’s chamomile, with a sprig of royal mistletoe steeped in,” she says, by way of conversation. “The mistletoe adds naught to its flavour, but Moro’a brought the very same blend over to me once at the Rising Stones, back when the lot of you were still stuck on the First.” That piques Alisaie’s interest, and the elezen turns slightly towards her, listening more intently.

“Was this before or after he’d gotten rid of all the Light inside of him?” she asks.

“Hmm.” Krile puts a finger to her lips, thinking. “It must have been after – he was exhausted, that much was clear – but not in the way I recall sensing before on one of his previous visits. I was too weary myself to investigate any further at the time.” She gives Alisaie an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I knew not the depths of what our friend was enduring, then.”

But Alisaie only huffs in exasperation. “I don’t blame you,” she replies. She shifts in her chair uncomfortably, her shoulders rigid. “Moro’a was bearing the weight of all those Lightwardens for moons – it took Y’shtola forcing his hand after the third one for him to tell us how much it was hurting him. He’s a little better at telling us about his feelings now, but…that he would still…” she sighs and doesn’t carry on, as though she’d lost her train of thought, or had perhaps decided against following it.

Krile feels the trails of Alisaie’s emotions blow over her, and as her Echo sorts them into recognisable forms, she feels both curiosity and concern for the young woman. “If you wish to say more, your words won’t leave this room,” she assures the young elezen.

Alisaie blinks. She knows Krile means it, and weighs her emotions against her pride.

“I shouldn’t feel mad at Moro’a for staying behind to fight the Endsinger without us,” she begins eventually. “Not when we’d all left him alone just moments before, with only promises and faith to go on.” Never mind that she’d promised Esteem she wouldn’t hold it against him. “But I still do, because when he returned to us, he…”

Something within her cracks, and she turns to face Krile proper. “How can all of you be so calm and patient?” she blurts out. “It’s been three weeks and he has not shown a single sign of waking, save nearly dying on us again! We were so close, so close to getting everyone out, but then he had to go and get himself wounded within ilms of his life.” Her hands ball into tight fists and her bottom lip quivers, but she clenches her jaw shut – she would not cry, not now.

“It’s just that, I hate this – I hate waiting. And feeling so godsdamned much with nowhere to channel it all.” The last words fall from her lips in place of her tears, and she watches uncertainly, with a small amount of embarrassment as Krile sets down her now emptied cup of tea onto the tray.

“Before I say anything about your feelings, I must first apologise.” Alisaie glances at her, but she waits for the older woman to go on. “For I was the one who let Zenos find him in the first place. He’d come to Sharlayan intent on seeking the Warrior of Light, and in desperation I struck a bargain with him.” She scowls as she recalls the former prince’s unshakeable insistence, and the unbearably tense atmosphere that had surrounded them outside the Forum.

It’s…news to Alisaie for sure. “You thought he might lend his aid to us momentarily, in exchange for the battle he so desired,” she says quietly, understanding dawning upon her.

Krile nods. “Perhaps I had been led to trust him because he seemed so willing to compromise for once. But had I known the dangers Moro’a would face in Ultima Thule…” the lalafell shakes her head. “If you must be angry at anyone, I am more far deserving of your ire than Moro’a is.”

But as Alisaie mulls over the information, she’s surprised to find that it has the opposite effect. “If he was so hells bent on fighting Moro’a, he wouldn’t have stopped until he was given the answer he wanted,” she muses. “I could be mad at him instead, but that wouldn’t do anything for me, seeing as he’s likely dead where Moro’a left him. Neither would being mad at you.” She sighs again. “Nor Moro’a, I suppose.”

“What’s done is done,” Krile murmurs. It won’t ease her guilt entirely, but she’s accepted the consequences. “Now, without prying into the other Scions’ personal thoughts and feelings, I can only surmise that everyone else is either dealing with this quite differently. Or merely more privately,” she suggests gently. “I can however tell you of how terribly worried I was for the lot of you back then, watching over you in the Dawn’s Respite. When no solution had yet been found and I could sense each of your life’s essences slowly but surely ebb away, despite my efforts to sustain your aether.”

Krile pauses, as though momentarily caught in a memory, and Alisaie feels moved to ask her if she’s alright until she speaks again. “Tataru, the other Scions – even F’lhaminn on occasion would visit, when I could allow for it. None of us could remain highly optimistic for long, facing such an unknown, dire situation as we were. But such visits proved invaluable in keeping my spirits up. It was comforting to see my worries mirrored on their faces, if just for a few moments. As it was to see the depth of Moro’a’s concern for all of you, too.” Alisaie looks up in surprise.

“Moro’a spoke with you? About us?”

“He did, yes,” Krile answered. “Granted, I likely would have pried sooner or later, but he approached me first. Though he was doing his best to remain level-headed, it was undeniable how much he wished to see all of you safely home, and that he would do everything he could to ensure that.”

Of course he would…Alisaie can’t help but admit to herself that Moro’a’s resilience and ability to remain calm in the face of many a challenge are the very qualities she admires most about him. Moreso knowing how deep some of his emotions run, and how much they’ve gotten to him in the past. But the fact that he’d sought a listening ear in the middle of it all is what truly soothes her heart.

“I suppose what I mean from all this is that you needn’t shy away from your feelings, even if the others may not express themselves the same way,” Krile concludes. “And I daresay that seeing such open emotions would do them a lot of good, as well.” Alisaie runs through her words, weighing them and turning them over like a stone in her mind. The feeling is a solid one, and it fortifies her. Yes, she thinks. She’ll feel what she feels in full, and face everything with her heart on her sleeve.

“Thank you,” she tells Krile, and the scholar nods, beaming. “After such a conversation, I find myself needing more tea,” Krile declares. “And I do feel compelled to ask again – would you like some?”

Alisaie smiles back. “I might as well enjoy it before it gets too cold,” she accepts. “Allow me.”

As she’s pouring tea into the cup in Krile’s hands however, the lalafell freezes, her expression immediately changing to one of shock. Alisaie slowly follows her gaze towards the bed. No…what now?

“Did I – I could have sworn I’d sensed his consciousness–

Alisaie doesn’t wait for Krile to finish; in an instant, she’s flown over to Moro’a’s side. True to Krile’s senses, he’s making a face, as though reluctantly stirring from a deep, deep slumber.

“Moro’a? Can you hear me??” Alisaie calls to him. It occurs to her that it might just be Esteem again, but she casts that thought aside – by the gods, if it isn’t Moro’a, she’ll force them to wake him up.

Very slowly, the Keeper’s eyes flutter and open by a fraction, followed by a low groan. Alisaie and Krile watch him with bated breaths. Several seconds later, a fraction becomes a quarter-ilm.

“Moro’a?” His gaze slides over towards them, and he seems to realise who he’s looking at; recognition softens his expression in an instant.

“Sorry.” It’s barely a whisper, but to Alisaie it’s as clear as the toll of the Studium’s bell, and at long last she lets herself cry as she takes his hand into hers, grinning through her tears.

“Don’t be.”

[daysofazure]

Aymeric wanted a play date with the toddlers. Thancred offered to come help, but Estinien can handle them on his own. Right? Thancred/Lehna/Estinien ot3 (they are a triad)

pure, self-indulgent fluff. the children are twins and biologically half-siblings because. well. cringe is dead.

“Aurelia!”

The toddler cackled as she smashed another dish on the floor, giggling harder as the plate exploded across Aymeric’s stone tiles. Estinien nearly tripped over himself trying to pick her up, careful to keep her away from the shards of broken glass. He was glad that Aymeric had the good humor to laugh while a small child destroyed his expensive dishware, because Estinien was panicked as he examined her small body for any sign that she had cut herself on the glass shards.

Bringing the children to the Borel Manor at Aymeric’s insistence had been a huge mistake. 

He should have at least taken Thancred’s offer to accompany him. But in his arrogance and stupidity, he had said, “They’re two toddlers, how hard could it be?” 

Extremely, apparently. Now he knew why Thancred had chuckled and insisted he would be around all afternoon if he was needed. But Estinien refused to admit defeat.

He sat Aurelia down on the couch and handed her the chocobo plush she had thrown earlier. It was with a start that he realized Theo was nowhere to be found and he began to panic, but then Aymeric placed a hand on his shoulder and held the boy out for him to take.

Relieved, Estinien collapsed on the couch with Theo in his lap, not even minding as the child poked and prodded at his ears.

Aurelia whined in protest, climbing onto Estinien’s lap and reaching up with her little hands, tugging gently on a strand of his hair and then lifting it to drop behind his ear. His heart swelled with the realization that she was copying what Lehna did. Aymeric sat down on the couch next to him and Estinien tried to ignore his smug grin.

“I see you are adjusting nicely to fatherhood,” Aymeric said lightly. “They love you.”

“I still worry I may fu–” he hesitated, glancing down as Theo blinked up at him with his large purple eyes. “--I may mess them up.”

Aymeric laughed, holding his arm out as Aurelia tried to crawl over to Aymeric, flopping to sit on his lap as she busied herself with playing with her chocobo plush. “My friend, all you can do is try to give them better than what we had. You will make mistakes, I am sure–but I am sure they will understand.” He paused, smiling as Aurelia offered the plush to him. “Is this for me? Thank you, Lady Aurelia.” She beamed at him before leaning into Aymeric’s abdomen and pressing her eyes closed. 

Theo, seeing his sister settle down, climbed back down Estinien’s torso and settled himself, mimicking her position. Relieved that they were going for their nap willingly, Estinien did not mind that the two of them would be stuck here for an hour or so. He, too, was exhausted.

“Is it strange?” Aymeric asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

Estinien glanced over to see Aymeric’s gaze sweeping back and forth between the babes. “Is what strange?”

Aymeric seemed to hesitate. 

“Speak plainly.”

With a sigh, Aymeric said. “Forgive my curiosity, I do not wish to offend. I have just always wondered if there is a difference for you–when one of them is of your own blood and the other is not.”

Coming from anyone else, Estinien would have bristled at the question. But Aymeric–Aymeric, who had been adopted by a loving family as their last resort, whose own father had pretended he did not exist?

“Nay,” Estinien said, staring at Aurelia. They hardly spoke of it at home, outside of when it was absolutely necessary, but Aurelia had softer features, her hair more of a pure silver than Estinien’s–closer to Thancred’s. She’d gotten the miqo’te ears, though Lehna said they were on the small side for a miqo’te. Her eyes also matched Thancred’s, more yellow than gray. This was in contrast to Theo, who had been born with the pointed ears of an elezen. They had known immediately, even if no one had spoken of it. “They are both equally mine, as they are both equally his.”

Aymeric slouched a bit, some tension in his shoulders gone, but not all of it. 

“Blood is only part of the story,” Estinien said. He thought for a moment before adding, “You and I do not share a bloodline, but you are my brother all the same.”

Aymeric looked over at him, face surprised for a moment before he smiled. “I never thought I’d see the day you would share such feelings aloud. Fatherhood really does suit you.” Aurelia yawned in his lap, and Aymeric placed a hand on her back. “You should leave them here sometime. I’m sure Lehna and Thancred would appreciate the night off as well.” He paused. “And I would love to spend some more time with my niece and nephew.”

[autumnslance]

send LOST for a scene from my muse's past in which they felt lost, literally or figuratively {Zaine}

He was supposed to protect her.

Zaine's axe and armor, Evienne's spells and social acumen. They were a matched set of opposites, a team that had traversed the realm for months now. That's how it worked.

On reflection, he really hadn't known her that long; less than a year. Yet everything they had gone through made it feel much longer, or at least more intense. They had shared their histories, their hopes, more than a few secrets.

Never a bed, though; as much as he'd come to love her, it was not in that way. And she was still mourning the loss of her spouse, besides. So fierce friends and comrades they were.

...They had been.

Zaine was going to tear Gaius van Baelsar into pieces.

"Hey," Yda said, wandering over to sit with him.

"Hey," he replied, taking a deep breath and sitting up. "You doing all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. How--"

"How about Papalymo? And Thancred?"

She frowned. "They're all right, Zaine. Everyone is."

Not everyone.

Before he could say more, she stuck her finger against his lips. "How are you?" she demanded to know, glimpses of her blue eyes through the mask showing her own sadness and resolve. She removed her finger.

Zaine slumped. "I keep feeling like I did everything wrong. Missed something, forgot something. If I'd been a little more on guard--and I know, I know that's not how it works, I know you all rushed cuz you only found out too late, but I--" He rested his head in his hands, clutching his hair.

"I feel like 'it's not your fault' won't help, huh?"

He huffed out a bitter laugh. "No." They were silent for a moment. "I know he targeted her as a caster, as a threat. Even if I had been in her place, even if I had been on guard. And I know...Evienne chose this, same as the rest of us, but it...Gods, this hurts."

"Of course it does," Yda replied softly. "It will for a long while."

He sat back now, leaning on the wall behind him, Yda watching. "If I knew anything of Eorzean etiquette as a boy, I forgot it. Evienne, though...she had impeccable manners. And took it upon herself to teach me better. My rough soldier ways grated on her lady's sensibilities." He smiled thinly. "I don't think I'd have made half as good an impression on all those people without her. And nevermind how many of her own heroics have been overlooked. It's not fair."

"A lot of things aren't," Yda said. "Minfilia's speaking to her sister, and her son. He's so little."

"Yeah," Zaine said. "Not much older than my sister was, when we lost our father. This kid's lost both his parents now and I don't...I feel like I should say something, but what? 'I was your mum's partner but failed to protect her from a Garlean bullet'?"

"Zaine, you can't say that."

"No, of course not, I just," he pinched his nose, trying to stay the renewed feeling of prickling heat in his eyes, threatening another deluge. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. She would know; that's what she was good at! It's all her clever words and maneuvering that's made me seem a hero; people think I know what I'm doing, but I don't. And there's still so much happening, no time to sit here and wallow, but Sisters help me, I don't know how I'm going to do it without her!"

The tears fell despite his attempts; guilt and shame as much as grief pouring from him. Yda was silent, simply holding his hand, squeezing tightly, a reminder he had more friends and allies, more people to help, to rely on.

Just not his companion.

--

((As the 1.0 WoL, Zaine traveled around with a Path Companion, who I decided was a prim & proper elezen conjurer named Evienne. There is, however, a famous scene where Gaius shoots the Path Companion, and then fights Thancred, Y'shtola, Papalymo, and Yda. In Zaine's continuity, his Path Companion dies from the injuries inflicted in that incident.))

[blissfulalchemist]

Sharing Sunday

Tagged not to long ago by @adelaidedrubman thank you so much for the tag! I’m sending out tags too @belorage @florbelles @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @unholymilf @confidentandgood @dihardys @jackiesarch @shellibisshe @themarcspector @indorilnerevarine @leviiackrman @devil-kindred @shallow-gravy and anyone else that has something to share!

I have nothing more to offer other than ff and so have some of something I started that takes place during endwalker. So spoiler-ish warning for that, just in case.

“Can you hear anything?”

Y’shtola begins to shake her head, when sudden movement has her readying for a fight as their weapon makes contact with Thancred’s shoulder just missing his head. The person pants, running back at him with a scream, the warning giving him enough time to grab onto the bed post made club. The woman’s sky blue eyes go wide as she tries to wrestle the weapon free from Thancred’s grip. Y’shtola holsters her staff, smiling and chuckling as she takes in the scene of the woman dressed in a dirtied turquoise blue silk corset dress manages to gain her club back swinging a few more times at Thancred as he tries to calm the woman down.

“Y’shtola, a little help would be nice. Lady Akagane please-.”

She’s midway through another swing when the words sink in, “Mr. Waters?” She pants out, “Mr. Waters, is it really you?” He nods, Siberite’s mother dropping the bedpost, pushing her lavender hair from her eyes to confirm, before wrapping her arms around him. “Oh thank the Sisters its you!”

He stiffens, arms raised, Y’shtola smirking, “I thought you said she hated you.”

“She….did?”

Lady Akagane’s eyes open, looking up before pushing him away with narrowed eyes and a small growl, “I still do.” She lets out a slow breath, crossing her arms, “Your presence here means there’s a high possibility that my Siberite is here.” The older woman frowns looking at Y’shtola, “She is here isn’t she? You two aren’t here because-.”

“She’s perfectly safe, Lady Akagane,” she assures, “And might I say what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know Siberite doesn’t talk about me or her father to anyone unless pressed.”

------------------------------

“Lady Akagane if I may-,” Y’shtola says, Siberite’s mother holding a hand up.

“I will be taken to my daughter and Mr. Waters will see to that. I do not care that she is busy, just that I see her.”

“I was merely going to ask what you plan to do after you see her.”

Lady Akagane waves away the question, making her way over the pile of front door, “Come. Let us be on our way.”

Thancred and Y’shtola look at each other with a shrug, “Well I guess Siberite takes after her father.”

“Honestly its hard to believe she’s related to either of them, but you were able to see better, you’d find they almost look like twins.”

“Mr. Waters!” Lady Akagane shouts, prompting the two to leave the house, Thancred grumbling.

----------------------------------

G’raha frowns, looking beside him once more to find his friend slowing down once more as they approach the designated meeting spot. He spots a bench next to the grove, leading Siberite towards it, “Here let’s sit down while we wait for the others, shall we?” Siberite simply nods, following silently. G’raha sighs, “I know you said you were fine earlier, but I don’t believe seeing your home like this is easy.”

“Believe or know?”

“Pardon?”

She looks up at the blood red skies, “That future we prevented, you said you woke up in the height of the calamity. When you say you believe, do you really mean to say that you know it not to be easy?”

He hums, holding his chin, “Much had already changed by then. While there were remnants of a place I once knew it was still foriegn to me.” She nods slowly, “Thavnair is far from foriegn for you though.”

“I guess. Felt that way.”

“How long had it been since you were last here prior to your excursion with the others?”

She inhales deeply, “Technically three years, but add in the time on the First and it’s closer to four maybe four and a half years.”

“So the only thing that really changed was you.”

She stays silent, watching as the potted plants still intact blow in the breeze, heart sinking, “I’m afraid, Raha.” His ears perk up, looking at her with a tilt of his head, “I’ve never felt so much panic before. In all of the battles faced, I never felt like I did when we first got news of Thavnair falling.”

[mnemosyne-xiv]

Koana sighed. “Master Fourchenault recommended you two, along with this woman,” he said, sparing the memoriate a glance. “Why must we add a fifth?”

“If you think there's going to be too many cooks in the kitchen, you’ll be happy to learn that our friend loathes large parties and would rather work by her lonesome than entertain a crowd.” Thancred chuckled under his breath. “Besides, for as much trouble as she’s bound to cause, the insight and arcane mastery she’ll offer is more than enough to make up for her terrible attitude.”

Zero gave a faint nod. “Remia won’t disappoint.”

“Assuming thine companion deins to make an appearance,” Urianger spoke up. “Though, I find it curious she didn’t outright reject our request…”

“Talking behind a womans back is hardly polite.”

“I knew you’d come,” Zero said, a smile spreading across her lips as she turned towards her partner.

Remia shrugged while she walked up to the quartet. “You’ve agreed to go, so I have no choice but to at least humor the boy.” Her uncovered eye flicked to the man in question. And then she smirked, clearly amused with what she saw. “This is the Second Promise? Oh, what a waste of time this is about to be.”

Koana recovered from his initial shock only to glare at her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Just look at you,” Remia mused, “and those memories of yours. My oh my, you’re going to lose to your sister because someone is too deadset on innovation without heeding the peoples wants and needs.”

“Remia,” Thancred said warningly.

She sighed. “Fine fine, what is it you want? He’s a lost cause, so perhaps you three have a better reason for urging the head of the Forum to summon me?”

Urianger nodded. “We wish for thine wisdom in the Rite of Succession.”

“Solely wisdom, or do you want me to fight for a man who isn’t fit to rule as well?” Remia asked.

“Give him a chance to speak, Remia,” Zero said.

Remia’s expression softened the slightest bit. “Go on then, tech-kitty.”

Koana exhaled a breath to calm himself. “I want to bring the technological advancements of Sharlayan to my homeland as a means of helping my people, and to repay my father for all the opportunities he has given me.”

A suffocating silence fell around them. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Remia who in turn stared at Koana, her blind eye seeing right through him. But after what felt like hours, she finally spoke.

“You’re genuine. Perhaps a bit awkward, and an utter failure when it comes to socializing—but that’s hardly a pre-requisite for a ruler considering the two voidsent i’m stuck advising on the Thirteenth…” Her voice trailed off while she further weighed the risks and rewards of this potential partnership. “Though, your heart is in the right place, your people coming first and foremost. Politics aside, ultimately that’s what truly matters.”

Zero smiled. “That’s her way of saying she’ll help.”

“Assuming you can tolerate her, that is.” Thancred then said, both him and Urianger chuckling as Remia awaited the Second Promises decision.

Koana cleared his throat. “What can you offer?”

“Depends, do you believe the golden city to be real?”

“I do.”

“And you’ll find it, no matter what?”

“I will.”

Remia cracked a smile. “Then I offer you all of my knowledge and strength in exchange for all that you learn after I make you Dawnservant.”

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2022 - Day 24 Prompt: "Vicissitudes"

A little unresolved musing from my WoL as she tries to process all of the everything that keeps happening.

------------------------

Keimwyda was loath to rely overmuch on teleportation magicks for a few reasons—the aetheryte tolls, just to name one of them. But today she was willing to make an exception. 

She needed to get away from Revenant’s Toll, and quickly. Just for a little while. She needed to think.

It was a habit she had picked up as a youth. When life started to feel overwhelming, she would slip away into the woods, and find somewhere beautiful that she could be alone for a bit to sit, and look, and listen. Once she had begun to learn the harp, her instrument came with her. To date, many of her favorite compositions had their origins in all sorts of little hidden glades and alcoves in the Black Shroud.

And so she found herself again, less than half a bell since her decision to get away, tucked into the outcropping behind the waterfall just outside Gridania. She felt far enough from the road to avoid the noise of carriages and to feel like she could have her thoughts and her music to herself for a while.

She leaned her head against the harp’s frame, and she plucked a string.

The mellow tones of an A reverberated with a gentle, buzzing hum across her skull. Something about feeling the music helped to focus her and calm her. The ambient rushing noise of the waterfall dampened the tone a bit, but that was fine. All the better to hide her just a little more from the outside world.

She thought of where she sat now. Gridania was a good stretch away from her old homestead, but growing up, she usually made a few trips here a year. This waterfall was a favorite detour of hers. Today was by no means her first time to hide away behind its cascade. The environment should feel warm and familiar and comforting.

And yet.

She plucked another string.

The E note resonated against her temple, and she closed her eyes and breathed. This didn’t really feel like home to her. Not anymore. Or perhaps her recent journeys had simply thrown light upon how it had never quite felt like home in the first place.

She could bring no complaints against her guardian, nor against the people who lived in the nearby village. Nobody had truly made her feel unwelcome. Many generous souls had, in fact, been quite kind to her. Nearly no one knew her in Gridania back then, ‘tis true, but this was still an extension of her old stomping grounds. So why did she now feel so alien?

Had she changed so much? Or had she simply become more attuned to who she was—and who she was not?

She plucked another string—two in succession. Reaching ahead to the D string, and dragging her fingertip back across the E once more. The light dissonance of the first, still echoing in the rocks, threw a richness on the second. 

She was nobody, and she came from nobody, and she did not mind that at all. Her father was just a sailor, one of many among the Limsan docks. Her mother was just a gleaner, and no particular rising star in the Sharlayan Studium. And she was just their daughter, taken in by a kind friend, reared in a nobly simple life that was to keep chickens and bake bread and tend gardens and love music and help out her neighbors as she could. When she had finally struck out on her own, that had really been all she intended: see a little more of the world and help a few people on the way. 

That was before the Scions found her.

She plucked another string. It was a G, hanging at a melodically high reach above where she began. 

People had started calling her the Warrior of Light.

She found herself in front of world leaders, and was in turns intimidated and honored by the summons. Folks on the street began recognizing her. Grand Companies began clamoring for her to join with them and help lead them. She was looked up to, and envied, and cheered, and pressured. A “hot ticket item”, Thancred once said.

She plucked another string. Back to the D, as an unfinished musical phrase, a lingering question trailing off and hanging in the air.

It had all changed so fast when unscrupulous, powerful people saw her and her comrades as an obstacle to their aims. Her name—although not only hers, to be sure—had been dragged through the mud much like she had been bodily dragged before the shocked attendees at the banquet. She and her comrades had been made to flee. She thought she had lost nearly all of them for good. Those few whom she knew to have survived had sought refuge in a foreign land, insular and isolated from the people who had praised her and then turned on her. She was not without allies, of course, but she also dared not show her face in the world she once knew.

She did not much mind being largely unknown again. But she could have done without the easy visual brands of an outsider—a tall Roegadyn in a city of Hyur and Elezen. She certainly could have done without the looming threat of being branded a heretic as well.

She did find her heart knit to those new friends who rallied to her there and stood by her, even when Ishgard on the whole knew not what to make of her. She counted them all dear now. Haurchefant, Francel, the lords of House Fortemps, Ser Aymeric, Lucia. But they had risked much through their association.

Her fingers picked up and down her harp strings once more, repeating the notes from the start in a slow, deliberate line, asking the musical question again.

What to do with all of this—with any of it?

The plot against the Sultana and the Scions had unraveled, of course, and their good names had been restored. Ishgard had come (for the most part) to accept them and celebrate the role they had played in delivering them from wrathful dragonfire. It was certainly nice to not be hated. But she was no longer sure she could trust being celebrated, being thrust once more to the front and center of a stage she had never meant to climb onto.

She gathered her scattered thoughts of many things. People she had met and aided, and even some she had lost. Work she had done that she could be proud of. Places that—she sincerely believed—she had left better off than she found them. Comrades and friends she only would have found on the path she had chosen, although not knowing whence it led. Prices she had paid that were heavier than she could have ever imagined.

She played through the melody line again, but hesitated before following it back down. A few more high notes felt right, somehow—a quick hop to the B, the C, and back to the high A. 

A tear rolled down her face. She was searching for the will and the wisdom for the next thing, the right thing. Signs were beginning to point towards Ala Mhigo, and to another conflict that felt much, much bigger than her. The road seemed to be taking her yet again to new lands, which was at once exciting and terrifying. She had no assurances of success or ease. At least she was that much surer of the quality of the people she would have by her side on the way.

So much had changed in what felt like so little time. Now the winds were changing yet again. Her heart ached but it yet reached, as her fingers fell back to the lower end of the scale.

She plucked another string.

[tenuuchlegch]

Shadowbringers HC's part 2

-Cue dramatic drumroll- And now the moment you've all been waiting for... Shadowbringers Headcanon dump! Part 2!

Odtsetseg already had a low opinion of Vauthry, when they first encountered one another. However the attack on the Crystarium is when she truly saw him as someone who needed to be disposed of. No one that mad should have that amount of power, in his twisted hands. Additionally, the ruler's sway over the sin eaters and unusual appearance/behavior made her suspicious of his humanity, but she said nothing as she had little evidence to confirm anything, at the time. Luckily, the Exarch's observations were more than enough proof.

Odtsetseg did really have sympathy for Lyna's situation. As it reminded her of the first time she faced Ifrit. Sure many of those who were engulfed in the primal's flames were scumbags, but there was also innocent people in the mix too. The difference between both situations however was that au ra had no closeness like Lyna did with her soldiers.

By the time the attack came around, Luu the Rathalos was in his adolescent stage and actually helped Odtsetseg to take down a few sin eaters. Unfortunately one of his wings got injured in the battle, making him unable to fly for some time. He got better after Kholusia though.

When I tell you that Odtsetseg was uncomfortable/borderline seething at Emet Selch commentary, during the tower. The worst part about it though? Is that she knew he was right and au ra could not deny that Thancred was somewhat harsh with Ryne sometimes.

Speaking of the situation with Ryne, it was such a hard pill for Odtsetseg to swallow, the possibility of loosing her... in favor of Minfilia. While the au ra did not dislike the latter, the former was merely a child. One who was unfortunately born during an apocalyptic era.

Though not adamant with it Odtsetseg was lowkey on Thancred's behind, concerning his emotional constipation towards Ryne. While she understood that the guy had been through a lot, it was no reason to treat the girl so coldly even if she did have a connection with the one he lost. During their time outside of the mine, reminiscing about Minfilia auri actually talked about the death of her father with him and how it affected her life. It was the first time she ever opened up to him about... well, anything really. Her reasoning for bringing it up was this: Despite the sweetness to his parting words, she deeply wished he had the gull to say them sooner. This and other factors left such a bitterness inside xalea, that it was hard to shake off and she hoped Thancred would not hold his own feelings back to Ryne forever.

Urianger was right to step up, otherwise she would have kicked Thancred in herself.

She also would've thrown hands with Ran'jit too, but there really was not time to argue in that situation.

Being a shard of Azem, Odtsetseg felt Arbert's pain the most, in the vision of Minfilia's sacrifice. The agony of being a survivor, is a heavy burden indeed.

When both girls reunited with Minfilia Odtsetseg responded with "It's good to see you again," and she meant it. Even if it was for a fleeting time, they were like friends... once, so rather than burden her soul with regrets. She simply greeted her warmly, as if nothing changed.

She was so relieved that Ryne had chose her own path and was given the blessing. Much as she liked Minfilia, au ra would have felt wrong if otherwise. Additionally, she was happy that the girl finally got her own name as well. Through au ra's perspective "Ryne" suited her.

All this happiness was ruined by the startling realization that "oh no, she may not be able to contain the light" when absorbing Amh Araeng's lightwarden. While she did not doubt it would happen, actually going through it was painful, to say the least.

Despite this, she didn't want to worry anyone too much so she tried to put on a brave face. Y'shtola was right to send her to bed.

Because of the little incident she had in her quarters and Ardbert's interference, Odtsetseg begin to suspect that, should all other plans fail, she may need to rely on this ghost for a boon, when the time was right.

When having the Echo of the "Black Rose timeline", Odtsetseg was partially worried that it was showing her what was happening in HER world while she was away. Au ra was informed that time worked differently there after all, so who knows how long she had been gone. She even requested to Feo Ul to send Tataru a letter asking how everyone is. She would have gone back herself, but there was simply too much at stake to find out.

Emet's power point presentation, was regarded with fascination [though Odtsetseg will never admit it], it did explain much of their world and the others after all. Plus it added a bit more insight into the Ascians' motives. That being said, she was FURIOUS at Emet Selch's conclusion. However that was quickly replaced by with a shiver down her spine when the guy said he had the "highest expectations" for her. She honestly wanted to pull Y'shtola aside and ask if she had a void gate or something ready yet.

The moment the butt bread contents were revealed, it all clicked in Odtsetseg's head on what Vauthry TRULY was. She didn't even need Ryne to confirm, and was disgusted when he grew wings and fled.

She did want to chase after him, but luckily Alphinaud was there to remind her of the people in need and knowing his compassion, Odtsetseg accepted it without a complaint.

She felt proud of Alphinaud for his speech. He had come a long way, from the... entitled kid auri woman used to know.

It took her a while to count the planks at the dock. Odtsetseg is good at many things, but math is not one of them.

Now for the Emet conversation. Naturally, Odtsetseg was tense when he approached her. I believe her thought process was "of all the people, why me!?" Throughout all this journey, she really was uncomfortable with how... softly(?) he was regarding her. But with this interaction, the gears in au ra's head began to turn and dots were starting to get connected. It really made her pose the question... did he know a previous incarnation of hers? Not only that, but there was some... sympathy evoked. She knew what it was like to not only loose your friends and family, but also your entire culture. Your world, so to speak. Regrettably this was not enough to move auri to try and comfort him, though loss was abundant in her life she imagined it paled in comparison to an immortal. Additionally, she could not ignore what he was and his cruel goals. Even if they understood each other to some extent, she would not dare hope to see themselves as friends. Ardbert's words of advice served to encourage this mindset.

Even though au ra feared she might be seen as insane, Odtsetseg gestured for Ardbert to tag along anyway. Mainly because auri felt like she understood him better and wanted him to be included.

She thought the Chai couple's antics were adorable... if not back-breaking.

There was some concern at the Crystal Exarch's arrival, but it quickly dissipated during their dwarven adventures.

The conversation with the Exarch before the Talos was erected was... difficult, mainly because Odtsetseg was not certain she would make it. She did return his question and that was when the realization of who he was really sunk in. Truth be told, she scarcely remembered his name at first, but she did remember HIM. His confession also struck a chord with the auri, and she realized how sweet he truly was. Thus was she more determined than ever, to stop this madness.

She was practically awestruck by the Talos they made, and grateful for Feo Ul's help.

The moment Vauthry fell and said to Odtsetseg "I am your god!" Au ra coldly responded with, "Afraid your not. That would be the Dusk Mother and she has come to snuff you out."

She wasn't surprised that the Ascians had a hand in Vauthry's creation. The fact that Emet Selch was the one who orchestrated it didn't phase her at all.

It broke her heart, seeing G'raha after so long and about to sacrifice himself to boot. Luckily, she remembered his name at this point called out to him. She never forgets those who give their lives for her sake.

This was ruined when Emet shot him of course, and if she wasn't preoccupied with trying not to turn into a monster Odtsetseg would have tried to fight him right then and there.

His talking mostly remained unnoticed by Odtsetseg, as she was busy imputing all her focus into containing this light. The most terrifying thing with this situation was that if auri woman fell she would turn against her friends- her family and become some horrid monster that would threaten all life in the first. Emet's words expounded on those fears. I even hc that he tilted her chin, just to keep her focus on him as she refused to look into his eyes. What made her confused though was his invitation? Why should he care whether she turned to madness with dignity or not? She didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts though, as darkness overtook her,

At least three days had passed, before Odtsetseg woke up and the thought of somehow summoning a gate and throwing herself into the void was definitely on her mind. She had talked to Y'shtola about it at Rak'tika, but xaela understood the reluctance behind such an endeavor. Either way, it appeared that everyone was trying in vain to prevent that and auri just... did not wish to burden them anymore.

Her vision was constantly going in and out being normal vision to eater vision at this time and she could even feel a strange craving on occasion.

Feo Ul's and Ardbert's interference kept her thoughts from becoming muddled. Luu also did not leave her side, intent on being there for her. Additionally, finding out about the Exarch's past was a great thing to keep her occupied.

Seeing the conversation betwixt Urianger and G'raha, Odtsetseg was for the first time in a long time moved to tears. Because honestly despite all the work she did, au ra did not think her works or deeds would amount to much. So many people died for her and it is so frustrating that she has to be the survivor in all this sometimes. Whatever the case, it was clear that what plans everyone had to stop this weren't going to work. So with a fiery heart: Odtsetseg set her sights on one goal: Defeat Emet Selch in one final battle. If she was going down she was taking him with her.

She honestly planned to leave on Luu, as he was now big enough to ride at this point. Plus he would not leave her alone. Unfortunately the Scions caught up to her.

I've mentioned this before, but Odtsetseg really did not hold any grudge against Urianger at this point. He didn't need to ask for forgiveness as it was already given. Alisaie's words however were enough to make Odtsetseg realize how much she was cared for in this found family and how much it hurt them to see her like this.

She was surprised by the Bismark of the First, even more so with how they entered the tempest.

She really wasn't into abiding the locals at this time, but it was not like she had a choice. However, the architecture and discovery of those ancient buildings did get her attention.

What really got her focus on though, was Emet Selch's creation of Amaurot. Beholding it with her own eyes, there was this strange feeling... almost akin to a distant homesickness. Time was ticking for her though and she needed to move.

The conversation with shade Hythlodaeus practically confirmed her suspicions. Her past self was close to Emet Selch once, and now they were enemies. She wasn't even shocked that the remaining sundered would be sacrificed to revive the dead, as Ascians were always a shady bunch.

The confrontation with Emet Selch went as expected, with xaela making crude comments like "You can shove my chakrams up your-"

Now for a little tidbit on my Azem. Her true name is Ananke, who is the Greek goddess of fate, inevitability and compulsion. She apparently, was something that even Zeus feared in greek mythos. Thus, Emet had every right to be concerned.

Despite all the pain, all the generational trauma, all the hatred she had towards the man though, her nod was sincere in the Ascian's final moments. In spite of everything, Odtsetseg could not deny that he had a life full of sorrow. He had endured much, beyond her capacity to comprehend and in the very least, au ra figured she could at least assure that they will not be forgotten.

She was taken aback that combining with Ardbert and the fight managed to heal her soul. It even made her question if Emet had this planned from the start.

G'raha was greeted warmly, as she figured he could use some light-heartedness after everything.

Luu definitely helped Urianger get to the surface. Don't worry.

After returning to the Crystarium, Odtsetseg collapsed on the bed to get some well-deserved rest.